“Then I guess it’s a good thing I have a lot of patience.”
She smiled. “I’ll do my best to help Roxy resist testing it too often.”
“What are you saying about me, Daj?” Roxy asked as she returned and joined them at the table.
“That you’re going to be on your best behavior for our Callan here,” her grandmother said with a wink.
Roxy laughed and met Callan’s gaze. “Daj is wise, but her perception is sometimes flawed.”
“Really?” he said. “She also told me that we’re well matched.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Well, Mr. Hockey, that’s the thing about heightened perception. Most of the time, it’s spot-on.”
Chapter Thirty
Nine weeks later…
Roxy walked through the house room by room, making sure everything looked exactly as she wanted it. Callan was due to arrive any minute. The team’s early morning flight had arrived from Toronto over an hour and a half ago. She had instructed him to come directly to the house rather than stopping by her apartment or his condo, claiming there was something time-sensitive they had to decide right away.
And since it was her birthday, he couldn’t exactly argue with her.
He would likely be exhausted. The team had been gone for just over a week and had played four games over that stretch. They’d won three of those games, which was the good news. So far, The Siege was the strongest team in their division and they were making a bid for best in the league. They had become the talk of the sports world.
Callan had played a big part in that. He had flourished in his new position on the second line, so much so that when the first line left winger, Eric Schmidt, got injured a couple of weeks into the regular season, the coaching staff bumped Callan up to cover for him. Schmiddy had recently announced his decision to retire after this season, so Callan was taking advantage of his temporary role on the first line to prove he could handle it permanently once that happened.
Although Roxy hadn’t been as prepared for the rigors of the NHL season and Callan’s hectic schedule as she thought, she was getting more into the groove of it. She had learned to do her best to schedule her real estate work around his time at home. She learned his routine when he was home, from his workouts and practices to his team meetings and press obligations. She attended as many home games as she could, often bringing her friends and family along with her.
Rashied and Duane had also been to a few more games with her. Callan made a point of visiting with Rashied every time he was home, even if it was just to meet him at the center to shoot hoops for an hour. It was a joy for her to see how both males benefitted from their friendship.
As much as she missed Callan when he was gone, it gave her the time she needed to focus on her job. Outside of her typical client work and her work with Campbell Investments, The Siege had contracted with her for a six-month trial of her Player Relocation Program. If she could prove the program’s value in those six months, they planned to extend it for another year. She planned to exceed their expectations in every way possible.
In addition to everything else on her plate, she had been overseeing the renovations at Callan’s Cape Cod, working with Frank Campbell to capture Callan’s vision for the house. Although the initial timeline had been eight weeks, they finished in seven…but Roxy asked Frank to help her make Callan believe things had been delayed.
His schedule was so full that he didn’t really have time to question it. He had only managed a handful of visits to the house during the renovations. He hadn’t even complained when Roxy told him about the time-sensitive decision he supposedly had to make that day.
Well, not much.
She waited in the foyer for him to pull into the driveway. Then she watched him through the window as he got out of his car and studied the new landscaping that had just been finished the day before. He was probably puzzling over the two white Adirondack benches on either side of the front door with their cheerful autumnal orange, gold, and brick red decorative pillows. The colors matched those in the large autumn wreath hanging on the newly painted front door.
When she opened the door, he was standing on the porch staring down at the new welcome mat. “Welcome home, Callan,” she greeted him.
Though he was clearly confused, he returned her smile. “Hey there, Sexy. Happy birthday.”
He had already texted her, called her, and sent flowers to her apartment, but she accepted the birthday wishes and the long, lingering kiss that went with it.
“Thanks,” she said. “Come on in.”
He stepped inside and glanced around. She waited for it to sink in.
“What…why is there furniture in here?” he asked. “I thought we were supposed to go shopping when the renovations were complete.”
“Don’t worry. There’s still shopping to do. Check it out.”
He gave her a baffled look before walking over to the fully furnished formal living room with its inviting sofa and two wingback chairs surrounding a rich wood coffee table. The furniture faced the large fireplace, over which hung a painting of a beautiful New England nautical scene that worked perfectly with the soft gray-blue paint on the walls. He looked down at the plush area rug that defined the space before approaching the wall of white custom built-in shelves decorated with books and collectibles. She waited for him to absorb everything he was seeing.
“Some of this came from Houghs Neck,” he said in a quiet voice as he ran his fingertips over an antique telescope. “G-Man and I used to stargaze with this when I was a kid.”
“Yes. I had your mother’s help. I wanted to be sure the house truly reflected you.”
She had also used that excuse to better connect with his mother. Callan had arranged for them to meet her for dinner after one of his home games when she was in town. While it hadn’t been the most warm and cozy meal ever, Roxy felt it went relatively well. She managed to get his mother’s contact information and reached out to her about her ideas for the Cape Cod. It gave them a few chances to get to know each other. While Roxy wasn’t sure they would ever be close, she felt they could at least get along well enough to keep Callan happy.
His father was an entirely different story. Callan had spoken to him once after their confrontation on the evening of the preseason opener. That conversation hadn’t gone any better than the one at the arena. Callan decided that when and if his father ever proved himself capable of having a conversation where he didn’t judge everything Callan did, he would consider making peace with him. Otherwise, he was quite content with his mother’s support, his hockey family, and the love and acceptance he received from Roxy’s family.
“You wanted the house to reflect me, huh?” he said, lifting an eyebrow and tapping the edges of some books that had come from her apartment.
“I needed to fill the shelves with something for now,” she explained.
“Ah.”
She sensed his disappointment. He had been asking her to move in with him for about a month now. They spent nearly all their time together when he wasn’t on the road, he had pointed out, and she was so heavily involved in the Cape Cod’s renovations. Why shouldn’t they just live there together?